


What's worse

by skidblast



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: DJD - Freeform, Depression, Gen, Helplessness, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 06:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2571059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skidblast/pseuds/skidblast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Swerve saw the DJD in action once. He was so traumatized he couldn't speak for six months. Said it was the worst thing that had ever happened to him."<br/>"What, seeing the DJD?"<br/>"No, not being able to speak"</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's worse

**Author's Note:**

> After seeing just how horrifying the DJD can be, I couldn't help but plot out how not being able to speak after that would be worse.
> 
> This was thought up and written in one afternoon and posted immediately, not read through for errors. I don't have a beta reader and I already know this isn't really good quality piece. Just a heads-up.

Only few minutes ago Swerve had been breaking the tension in the room by talking about just how close Blurr had been to defeat when he had been racing to get the Ibex Cup for the eighth time in a row. Glit wasn't that interested in it, but that was a given for an ex-Decepticon who still hadn't joined the Autobots. At least he was willing to part with medical research and knowledge he had gotten while working for the Decepticons.

No one had warned Swerve and his co-workers that Glit was on the List.

Swerve had never heard anyone scream like Flatbed was streaming right now. The closest he had gotten was treating a Babu Yar survivor who had been in the middle of a flashback. The screams were drilling into his audials, but as much as he wanted to scream with Flatbed in sympathy, he couldn't.

The initial explosion had been at the wall where Swerve had been at. The remains of the wall were resting on him, pinning him down and unable to move, where he had a good view of what was happening, all of it, unable to turn his head away. And the DJD didn't know he was there, overlooked, insignificant.

Glit was still alive, the beastformer shivering in terror as the few who had treated him well were being killed in front of him.

The only reason for why Swerve was not among them was because he didn't say anything. He didn't yell for Tesarus to stop as he dragged Pivot into his grinder.

He didn't speak up, he didn't scream, he didn't beg for Tarn and the others to stop. He didn't say anything, he didn't produce any sound. He knew that either the DJD were just playing with him, marking him for last in their sick little game, or they didn't know he was there. He was just stuck there, seeing that the stories about the ruthlessness of the DJD were far from exaggerated.

Even longer after Glit was finally silent and the DJD left, Swerve didn't dare to call for help. He knew that he didn't have any lethal injuries. Even though the wall was on top of him, it was his heavy frame that protected him from being crushed to death. Even though no one was in the room, at least no one alive, he couldn't speak. He was convinced that Tarn was standing behind the rubble, waiting for him to do anything and then the torture would continue with him in the lead role.

Four days. Swerve's chronometer was functioning perfectly. He had been stuck under that rubble for four days, and even for that he couldn't move or speak. No one was coming. They probably all knew what had happened and had given up. No one survived the DJD, why would "Shut the hell up" be an exception?

On the fifth day something changed. A small flying drone entered and seemed to be taking a series of scans. Swerve wondered what all that was about but he still couldn't say anything out of fear. Maybe the DJD had discovered that they had left a survivor and were finishing the job.

Three hours and sixteen minutes after the drone had left, Spearhead, one of security staff that came to the remote facility from time to time. And he retreated quickly and Swerve could hear him purge his tank outside. "Revo, Vectorium, get over here." He called, a bit low, but apparently it was loud enough as they three entered the ruined room.

"Primus what happened here?" Revo said as all of them were taking in the sight.

Swerve knew what happened. He couldn't move, still pinned down. As he tried to reach to the security detail, he felt something stopping him. He couldn't speak up, he couldn't make any sound. "Shut the hell up" was finally silent, when he needed to speak up the most. It was killing him, literally and figuratively. Why couldn't he say anything? What was wrong with him? He wanted to live, he wanted to open a bar with Blurr. He was okay with working in Metallurgy despite his dreams. He didn't want to die. But he still couldn't say anything. And that was the worst. No one knew he was there, no one saw him under all that rubble. He knew that all would be right when he could speak, but something was wrong, something was terribly wrong.

He heard the guards speaking about Glit and the others who died, trying to figure out which torn-off piece belonged to whom, wondering who had managed to cause what wounds. Some of the body pieces were attributed to Swerve, and as much as he wanted to protest, as much as he wanted to tell them that he was alive, just stuck, he couldn't say anything. He wondered if it was some processor glitch, that the impulse to keep quiet when the DJD was there had caused some permanent damage and kept him stuck in some sort of feedback loop. But he didn't have the experience to diagnose himself.

Others came, and Swerve could have sworn it were the DJD. He saw the events from six days ago play in front of him again, the slaughter, his feelings as he was compelled to stay silent so he would survive. But once everything became clearer he saw that it were just some cleanup crew, taking the bodies, every single piece with respect before they left again, leaving him alone.

Nine days after DJD had attacked, and Swerve found himself drifting to and from stasis lock. His energon levels were low. No one cared about some chatterbox. He had been thought dead or kidnapped and no one thought to clean up. It wasn't a priority in a remote facility that no one cared about, and where they put bots that no one cared about. He had seen the others wonder what happened while he could have just told them. Others had wondered where his head or sparkchamber or his striped legs were, and he could have just told them he was still there but couldn't. Even though he had known that the danger was past he hadn't been able to say anything. The fear of the DJD coming back had few days ago been replaced by the fear that he would die without ever being discovered, just because he had never said anything.

Swerve wondered if he was experiencing some hallucinations as he heard his name called. He thought he saw Revo entering the room and going straight for the pile of rubble he was stuck under.

"Scrap! Prowl was right, he is here!" Swerve could barely hear Revo. Damn right he was here but as much as he wanted to chew Revo and the others out for not finding him he couldn't. Even though the DJD were long gone and he knew that he didn't need to stay silent to keep them away he still couldn't speak. And that frightened him the most. He was damaged in a way he couldn't recognize. He didn't know what was going on and what was going to happen. He felt the rubble finally being taken off his near-crushed body and he saw Remedy coming over and check him out.

"Swerve, you there with us?" Remedy asked, but Swerve didn't answer, he couldn't. Nearly nine days stuck in the rubble, awake and alert but never able to call for help. He still couldn't say anything. 

And as Remedy was working on him and Revo asking so many questions, the most attention Swerve had gotten in a long time, Swerve still couldn't say anything.


End file.
